


Lead Me Into Your Darkness

by DarkmoonBoar



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls II
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bickering, Bondage, Def my DaS2 OT3, Dominance, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Headcanon, I just associate Straid with bondage and d/s ok, Implied Straid/Vessel, It's probably his amazing outfit, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Navlaan as a bratty sub, Oneshot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Resolved Sexual Tension, Submission, Use of a ball gag, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonBoar/pseuds/DarkmoonBoar
Summary: Straid and Navlaan (and, implicitly, the body Navlaan co-habs) have lived together for quite some time.This day, they argue over magic and sparks fly. Metaphorically.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Would like to first thank my beta reader skelephibian on tumblr for, well, helping me edit this shit. Hi, I don't know how to link to shit in notes.
> 
> Second, calethecartographer (also on tumblr) for supplying me not only with their headcanons re: Navlaan, but also giving me wonderful suggestions with the set up. I hope it lives up to your expectations.
> 
> Y'all are the real MVPs.
> 
> Going to make a concerted effort to make 2017 the Year of the Fluff for my fics because Dark Souls deserves more excellent loving gay pairings.
> 
> Also, I love these two gay mages so much. Well, technically, three.

Brightly burning torches set in sconces on the walls lit the interior of the once-abandoned tower not terribly far from the Forest of Giants. Along with the lit torches, the oil used to soak the rags hanging in the air, in conjunction with a small hearth, kept both of the occupants warm through the long night, lit brightly by full moon. Two heavy wooden desks sat in the stone brick room on the same side, though in different corners. Both of them were neatly organized with scrolls on one side of the desk, vellum for writing on another, and of course, an ink and quill away from both to avoid contaminating them.

Upon closer inspection, the desk on the right side had a geode with bright blue crystals inside the rock’s cavity sitting by the scrolls; the desk on the left side had a Moon Hat sitting on the chair in front it . Between the desks lay numerous meticulously organized bookshelves and scroll racks. On the opposite side of the room lay two neatly made beds, one more than large enough for two people, and a smaller one, not quite juxtaposed together, but not that far from each other. Closer to where the walls met, on the outside of each, were two armories made of the same sturdy wood of the desks.

And inside this room, two men of disparate height argued, both in hooded robes, fairly close to one another. The slighter, shorter one was covered almost head to toe in dark brown cloth save for bits of his youthful, cyan face; not even his eyes were exposed, covered behind brown leather eye patches. His voice was deep and raspy as he bickered back and forth with his arms folded, his full lips curled into an ugly snarl. The other man smirked with the top half of his face hidden behind a golden mask and stroked his beard with one hand while the other wrapped around his crystal-tipped staff.

He swallowed thickly in his throat, though certainly not swallowing the pride he had. The angry sorcerer hissed, voice shrill between his irritation and humiliation, “Straid, that doesn't change that the spell  _ didn't work _ . Just give me a hint as to what to do,  _ if _ you're so certain you have it figure all out.” His arms practically  _ squeezed _ his narrow chest upwards with how tight he compressed his arms together below his sternum. All of his body tensed up, especially his shoulders.

Straid  _ laughed _ at the display, though not intentionally to mock. Even if he didn't mean to be, Navlaan, Royal Sorcerer no longer, always looked adorable at his most sour. Perhaps precisely because of what he  _ used _ to be, instead of in spite of it. Watching the Fenito's nose wrinkle, the other sorcerer replied in his nasal timbre, “If you had bothered to listen the first time, you stubborn fool, it needs a _ transposed _ boss soul. Which, I'll remind you, only I can do, so if you want any sort of help, I suggest you stop being obstinate and hand the soul over.”

Both of them stared at each other for a moment. Even if the human sorcerer was completely relaxed in his posture, all too amused at his partner's anger, the sexual tension between the two was electric and palpable. The air was thick with it. It either started the arguments, or reared its head half way in, especially given how alike they were when it came to their refusal to budge on their stances on magic.

But it never ended with one walking out, or with awkward silence between the two. Partly because Navlaan's Vessel wouldn't allow it, partly because their relationship, despite all evidence to the contrary, was born out of a respect for one another.

Naturally, the Fenito spoke next. He sucked in air sharply, allowing the other man a few more seconds of appearing quite satisfied with himself. “I don't see you casting the spell either,” Navlaan grumbled under his breath with a sneer, but loud enough for his lover to hear as he got even closer, not even an inch away from him. Most, especially if they were as privy to the sorcerer's past, would have taken it as a threat.

Beneath that which kept his sensitive, dark-adapted eyes from being agitated by the light, the Fenito's pupils were dilated. His breath came out heavy through his mouth. When combined with the unpleasant expression on his face, it was difficult to distinguish his mood from simple indignation at the suggestion he couldn't do something.

Straid swore he felt the chaos sorcerer's erection prod into him given how close they were, but it could have been his imagination.Chuckling, he looked down at him and commented with a  a curious, not quite soft tone that suggested more than mere mirth, “You have the most curious ways of asking for things, Navlaan. As... aloof as your Vessel is, at least he can bring himself to do that.”

As if wanting to prove that he was actually furious and not just frustrated (and  _ more _ than just at Straid's hard-set superiority), the former Royal Sorcerer leaped back with his gloved hands twitching, fingers gesticulating, as if  _ itching _ to cast a spell.

“Heh heh, oh, must we, my dear? Always have to be so dramatic...” the human chuckled as he raised his staff to cast a spell.

Dark, purple-tinged energy billowed out from the catalyst, snuffing out the torches in the room and ruffling the vellum and scrolls on their desks, not to mention both of their robes. Only moonlight lit the room now.

The look on the Fenito's face was priceless. He looked shocked, even a little  _ disappointed _ as he gazed at his hands, both rendered unable to cast spells and speak, then at Straid rushing towards him sans catalyst (which now leaned against the wall).

“Sorry to ruin your fun,” Straid gently caught the other sorcerer’s wrist behind the Fenito’s back, “But I'm really not in the mood to get hurt tonight because you're feeling frisky.” Before leading his partner over to his desk where he could bind  Navlaan's arms and wrists behind his back, Straid angled his head and leaned down slightly to place a kiss on the other sorcerer's parted lips. Almost immediately, the Fenito all but crumpled into him and leaned into the contact, temporarily pacified.

At his desk, the human sorcerer bent over and pulled out a long, silken length of rope from the bottom drawer with his free hand, not before moving the chair over. “You  _ are _ okay with this, correct?” Straid asked before he dared to even start binding up his partner's arms and wrists together. He just needed to be  _ sure _ he was reading the Fenito's behavior correctly and that he  _ wanted _ this.

A mischievous smile twisted across Navlaan's face. With white teeth shining between his blue lips, he nodded. Glancing at him from the corners of his deep brown eyes, aware the other was up to  _ something _ , the human began to tie his arms and wrists together, occasionally stopping to rub the Fenito's shoulders affectionately and soothingly. “If it's too tight, or any of your arms, hands, or fingers so numb, let me know because I don't want you to be uncomfortable,” Straid whispered, whirling around the other sorcerer so he could at least look at him, even if he couldn't gaze into his eyes. Yet.

With the hex worn off, the former Royal Sorcerer could answer verbally. “Alright,” Navlaan replied in a breathy, excited voice as he gave the human an indecent, almost boyish grin. If his hood were not on, his dark crimson eyes would have glittered slyly.

Straid's eyes danced along the Fenito's lips before he embraced the partially bound sorcerer by clutching delicately at his shoulders and kissed him, this time far less chaste. He moved his lips against Navlaan's, grinning as his slimmer partner fervidly returned it. Not one to just receive, the chaos sorcerer deepened it, slanting his body slightly because he couldn't use his hands to touch his lover. More than content to continue this for a while, the human's hands moved down to his armpits, then gliding down to the sides of his chest, roaming down to his hips.

Navlaan moaned against Straid's mouth, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, not before nibbling at the human's lower lip sharp enough that he hissed in pain. “Are you going to take me already?” the rasping voice of the Fenito rang, all the richer from his arousal, only made somewhat evident given the amount of cloth blocking the view of the considerable bulge in the front of his trousers. He looked up, and fluttered his eyelashes even though he knew the human couldn't see his eyes.

Warmly laughing in his throat, Straid replied, “Hush now. I'm not done yet.” After clearing his throat, he added while he slid his hands up to his partner's face, “Would you object to me removing your hood? It'll only be for the duration of what I want to do to you, and no longer. My magic blew all the torches out, so your eyes shouldn't hurt.”

Silent and straight-faced for a moment, the Fenito slowly nodded and verbally confirmed, “I trust you, Straid.” He tilted his head forward, allowing the human to slowly and carefully take the hood off. Placing it on the desk's chair, Straid beheld a sight that he was slowly but surely getting used to. It had taken nearly a year of their romantic relationship before either the Vessel or Navlaan felt comfortable taking it off, and only ever in the dark where their human partner could barely see. Even then, it had only been removed it a few time in his presence since.

Beneath the hood laid, of course, signature Fenito deep red eyes, coupled with chin length, straight steel blue hair. Quirking an eyebrow the same shade as the hair on his head, Navlaan intoned quizzically, struggling the find the words at first, “You always give me…  _ us _ , that look, like you're... captivated.”

“And why wouldn't I be? The both of you are gorgeous, and yes, I  _ do _ mean both and not just your Vessel, even if my sight in this light level is not nearly as decent as yours,” Straid responded fondly with an askew smile, reaching out to stroke his lover's cheek and kiss his forehead.

Again, he dug through the drawers of his desks, before pulling out an unbuckled strip of black leather with a black rubber ball in the middle as well as a vial of oil. Shutting the drawer, he stood up and regarded the former Royal Sorcerer with a tilt of his head and a question, “No opposition to using this? It's not that I don't appreciate your type of enthusiasm,” he truly spoke with love, “I'd prefer to remain in one piece, you feisty blueberry.” He placed the vial on the desk.

Without missing a beat, the Fenito replied with a voice thick with lust and amusement, “Go ahead. No worse than my magic being silenced.” His lips split into a wanton grin, “And I know how you like it when my mouth is  _ occupied _ .”

Straid shot him an unimpressed glare and scowl before ambling up to him, holding the implement as he waited for the other sorcerer to open his mouth. At first, the Fenito appeared to be complying, right before he playfully nipped at the man's fingers. He snickered one last time as the human flapped the hurting hand and placed the ball in his mouth. It was buckled quickly behind Navlaan's head.

The Fenito rolled his eyes back into his head as Straid delicately ran fingers through his hair and planted a kiss on the nape of his neck. A muffled moan vibrated behind the gag.

Walking in front of Navlaan, the mage from Olaphis admired his work before inquiring, “You can still nod and blink, correct? Six blinks for yes, four for no, or you could just nod or shake your head.” An arm wrapped around his lover to rub his back.

Characteristic of his quick responses earlier, the Fenito blinked six times in rapid succession and wiggled against the human to entice him further.

“Good. Very good.”

The human then gathered up the scrolls and vellum and gingerly set them on top of a nearby bookshelf. Soon, the ink well and quill followed. Meanwhile, Navlaan shifted his weight from his toes to the heel of his foot to and fro impatiently, wanting to lean against the desk but thinking better of it. With a chuckle, Straid returned to standing before his partner.

Locking eyes with the Fenito, he instructed, “Now, sit on the desk so I can get to taking off your boots and trousers.”

Without breaking eye contact, the other sorcerer did as he was told, offering his feet with a devious smirk. His eyes twinkled as the human gave him a stern look before taking hold of his feet and unlacing Navlaan's boots one by one. He gently set them under the desk, then began to work on freeing the necromancer from the confines of his pants. Considerate, deft fingers clad in leather untied the laces, then hooked into both the waistband of the baggy pants and the small clothes under them. Both articles of clothing were pulled down slowly and with care, then folded and laid them on top of the robe's hood back at the chair.

Though the man's reddened (or rather… purpled) and leaking erection flopped out, his partner intentionally ignored its presence.

No sooner when Straid turned towards the Fenito and returned was he pulled towards his sitting lover via those slender, naked, smooth legs.

Once the human bumped against the edge, Navlaan clumsily rutted against his clothed form, a bit challenged by the fact he couldn't use his arms, but managed nonetheless. It was a bit graceless, if not passionate.

A click of his tongue and Straid stroked the other man's face, focusing especially on his lips forced apart by the object in his mouth. “You never were good at being obedient. Always so contrary…” the human whispered huskily as he ghosted his mouth against the Fenito's earlobe, “A bit like fire… but you'd never burn me.” A leather-clad hand wandered down the front of the bound sorcerer's robes, caressing his clothed chest, then trailed down to stroke his cock upwards and gently squeeze at the head.

Navlaan made a noise, perhaps a whimper, whine, even a groan, but the ball in his mouth just stifled it and turned it into a rather nondescript “Mmmph.” His head lolled back and he couldn't help but slant into the contact.

Straid smiled at the reaction and gave the organ a few more teasing tugs before he began to untie the Fenito's arms and wrists. When his partner gave him questioning looks, he explained, “For what I have in mind, I need to move your arms above your head for your own comfort.”

The sitting sorcerer managed to keep his hands to himself as they were repositioned above his head. “You won't be doing that long, trust me,” Straid reassured him as he began to retie his partner's arms.

Once he finished that, he removed the glove off his right hand, placing it with the rest of the removed clothing, and flicked open the vial with his thumb. Eyes dancing over the Fenito's thighs still wrapped around him, the human dug through the desk again, pulling out another length of rope. He grabbed Navlaan's legs, completely unsurprised as the chaos sorcerer let him manipulate him until his legs were no longer wound around the human. Straid bent the other mage over himself until his buttocks were exposed, his back touched the desk, and his hands touched the wall.

The Fenito made no protests as his knees were tied together, and instead laid there, utterly receptive. “It would just be far easier for us both if you'd just admit that you enjoy being tied up, but I know you enjoy being bratty,” Straid laughed as he began to liberally coat his bare fingers with oil, “And that trait of  _ yours _ is my favorite.”

“Knock on the desk if you get uncomfortable, or I do something disagreeable.”

Seeing the necromancer on his back, on  _ this _ desk, bare buttocks exposed explicitly for sex, tied up, and gagged had him remarkably hard.

Slowly, the human mage slid a finger into Navlaan's orifice, watching for anything that could designate pain or discomfort, subtle or not. He found little resistance as he gently stretched the entrance, delighted when the Fenito let out a dampened moan. When a good few minutes passed, another digit penetrated the former Royal Sorcerer's hole and made similar diligent movements. It didn't take long before Navlaan's mouth constantly streamed deadened noises of bliss behind that dark rubber ball.

Instead of giving into his growing desire to simply undo trousers and just impale the damned naughty mage, Straid added yet another finger. This time, he occasionally pressed into the raised, soft spot of the Fenito's prostate. The thighs of the prostrate partner tensed and shook every so often, the little they could with his legs bound together so.

All three fingers withdrew while Straid simultaneously used his gloved hand to open the fly on his pants, exposing his own cock. After thoroughly slicking it with the bare hand, he lined himself up with Navlaan's loosened opening before shallowly thrusting forward. As the tip went in, he paused for a couple of moments, letting his lover adjust, then gradually sank in further with a deep groan.

He waited once fully seated, gazing into the Fenito's eyes and noting the deep flush developing on his cheeks. Then, Straid began to slowly rock into him, deep and gentle, as he gripped Navlaan's hips. His thumbs traced circles the necromancer's soft skin. At that moment, he wondered if the Vessel could  _ feel _ it, if he wasn't just aware of what was going on, but actually  _ experienced _ it as if he were being fucked.

But there were some things he just couldn't bring himself to ask, even if Straid had known Navlaan long before he came to inhabit the Fenito's body in joint custody. Even if they  _ all _ trusted one another and their relationship was strong.

Some things were better left a secret to him. If they wished to reveal it, so be it. And still, the thought had him groaning and biting his lower lip.

Navlaan must have relished the sight because he, too, made noises and tried his damnedest to arch his back into each motion. His member laid against the material of his thick robes, twitching as well as beading liquid at the tip. The pre-cum left damps marks on the cloth. Both of his eyes fixated up at his lover, trying to keep eye contact even though he shut them almost instinctively after nearly every wave of pleasure that rippled and coursed through his nerves.

Though perhaps choosing to do it at one of the desks wasn't the most comfy options, the Fenito looked every bit at ease with being a recipient made  _ mostly _ passive by the rope and the gag.

“Amazing how pliant you become with just the right touch,” the human sorcerer grinned proudly, caressing Navlaan's inner thighs so tantalizingly close to his turgid cock. Now, he felt pride not out of the misplaced idea he had conquered or tamed the Fenito; rather, he felt pride that Navlaan  _ chose _ to be calm with him.

Most of the time, anyways. But the necromancer never acted out of malice.

Placing his hands back onto the narrow hips of the horizontal sorcerer, Straid began to pull him into each thrust, laughing as the Fenito's feet angled down and all ten toes curled in rapture. Navlaan's flush began to extend down to his chest, and all the motions of sex mussed his hair, particularly the part he laid on. Stray strands of it fell onto his face and stuck there, slightly dampened with sweat.

Still patiently rocking into his supine lover, the Olaphis mage raked his eyes over the legs in front of him, then got an idea.

After Straid stopped hauling Navlaan onto his cock, he reached for the other man's legs. With care for the Fenito's comfort, he anchored the feet in his hands and licked up the arch of the left foot. Immediately, the necromancer entire body tensed up and quivered; the ticklish sensation caused him to involuntarily squeeze his inner walls around the member lodged inside him. Little muted sounds poured out of his filled mouth.

Straid repeated the action to watch the chaos sorcerer's body try to thrash with intense sensation and fail. How… exquisite it felt when his partner contracted muscles around him was completely secondary, though it definitely factored into it. Then, he began to suck on the Fenito's largest toe, all the while maintaining his hold on Navlaan's feet lest he be accidentally kicked in the face.

The way tears of laughter pricked at those large eyes and the way the Fenito's weighty member  _ bounced _ slightly each time spurred him on, even if he was already privy to the knowledge his partner had ticklish feet. Straid continued, occasionally stopping to merely lap at the underside, with rapt attention at the sight before him. Eventually, he moved onto giving the same attention to the other foot, with the same results.

There was no doubt in his mind that if he continued, with the way Navlaan tightened around him, that he could orgasm from  _ that _ stimulation. But, Straid had the mind to not be selfish, not with the way the other man willingly gave himself to him.

Once he stopped, he crooned to Navlaan in a teasing voice, lips still pulled apart in an adoring grin. “My beautiful little monster, I hope you're enjoying this more than I am,” he renewed the rolling of his pelvis into the chaos sorcerer, “Because  _ you _ are fantastic. I'd say  _ enchanting _ but… I assume you'd try to kick me for that.” The Fenito both nodded and blinked six times, at which the human couldn't help but laugh. “To both?” Straid asked between peals of laughter, which turned raucous when the necromancer nodded and blinked  _ again,  _ mumbling incoherently beneath the gag.

Carefully letting down his love's legs, the human wrapped his hands around Navlaan's thighs, halfway to his knees. Though his thrusts stayed deep, never quite pulling out all the way, he did pick up the pace slightly.

For now, he wanted it to be  _ agonizing _ for the Fenito, a slow build of pressure that would push him over the edge so far he'd soar, because Straid wanted nothing less for his beloved.  _ Beloveds _ .

Navlaan managed to tilt up into the thrusts, moaning around the rubber ball in his mouth, clearly desiring more. Straid almost regretted stuffing the thing in his mouth, just to hear from the other mage how  _ badly _ he needed it, to just  _ fucking _ give it to him already, to hammer into him until the necromancer's sentences strung together into nonsensical slurred utterances barely resembling language. But having the Fenito's mouth full… well, he couldn't resist  _ that _ .

“Aren't  _ you _ impatient, my dear,” he commented with a lopsided smile because of how charming he found the other sorcerer's want. Earlier, Navlaan might have been defiant with the intent on playing a game, but his behavior now made it more than obvious he clearly desired this.

Just contemplating it made the fire burning in his loins all the hotter; he loved being correct in his assumptions of what the other sorcerer still struggled to bring up directly.

With a lustful growl, Straid pulled all the way out of the Fenito before pushing his cock back in all the way, angling it in order to hit that sweet little bundle of nerves. He knew he hit it when he observed his lover's feet angle down and the toes clench. Resuming his languid motions, Straid began to draw his thrusts farther out so they weren't so shallow.

His hands slid to Navlaan's hips, caressing where his hips and legs met, or what he could at any rate, then trailed to the inner thighs. Tenderly massaging the flesh there, he kept his eyes on the Fenito who canted his hips up in a desperate bid for his genitals to be touched, given they were literally inches away. Grinning down at him, Straid dipped his hands between where the thighs touched, still ignoring the throbbing member that occasionally jerked up from its resting place. All the while, he made this thrusts decidedly harder, not  _ brutal _ by any means, but had just hard enough that there were soft sounds of body meeting body.

Navlaan began to babble, each new word thrumming out all sounding the same to the ear beyond the volume and length. Little droplets of sweat began to coalesce on his hip bones and became more obvious around his hairline. His eyes all but glowed with how intensely  _ urgent _ and ardent they appeared.

Exactly the sort of appearance Straid savored.

Out of pity as well as the desire to satisfy, he inched his hands down, still wedged between the bound legs, and wrapped his bare hand around the necromancer's length. The other hand went to cup the Fenito's testicles, occasionally gently fondling them. The noises spilling from the blocked mouth became increasingly loud as the hand on Navlaan's cock glided his prepuce back and ran over the exposed, sensitive tip. When his hands left momentarily in order to get the uncovered hand lubed with the oil, the sound the chaos sorcerer made was almost identifiable as a whine.

“Heh heh, isn't that the most precious noise,” Straid taunted lightly, eyes alight with lust, as he replaced his hands back to where they were positioned on his partner's body. Then, he swirled his palm over the head of the Fenito's penis. Navlaan jolted upward, though the binding restricted how much he moved. After repeating the gesture a few more times, the human settled on pumping up and down the length in time with his thrusts, making it slippery and glisten in the process.

Studying the way his lover's eyes clenched and how ruddy his skin looked, Straid asked with a hoarse voice, “Would you like for me to go faster?” Though, he felt he already knew the answer.

Nodding his head frantically, the Fenito opened up his eyes and blinked six times before closing them again, as if to focus on the complimentary sensations of a fist around his prick and a cock in his ass.

The digits around his balls left their station and wrapped around his legs below the knees and brought him  _ even closer.  _ Then the human drove into him faster, though he took care to not be any rougher with Navlaan.

Not unexpectedly, the muffled cries of the supine sorcerer became even more strident and frequent. Both of their breath puffed out harder, though the human's came out more labored, naturally, as  _ he _ was the one doing most of the moving. More sweat coated the Fenito, and even the material of his robe, particularly around the armpits, appeared darkened with dampness; Straid found himself in a similar state.

They could always bathe in the morning, after they both had a night's rest; Straid was fairly certain that both of them would be far too exhausted to do so after. More accurately, he and  _ the Vessel _ would wash off.

Several minutes of flesh colliding and muted mewls later, the human sorcerer felt thighs tense around his hold as well as the Fenito's ass clamp around him every so often; he knew his partner's climax neared. Although he found it sorely tempting to plow the necromancer into the table, Straid kept the same rhythm, observing as Navlaan alternated between staring him dead in the eye, red eyes glassy but full of adoration, and closing his eyes to concentrate.

And with the way white scorching heat steadily coiled in his own loins, the mage from Olaphis knew he'd reach completion either not long before or not long after. Not exactly unusual, but something about that fact still titillated him.

Breathily, Straid groaned as the Fenito angled his body to meet him, “Next time I think I'll just bind your arms and have you on my lap. I don't think we've done that for at least month now.” His motions, particularly that of his hips, began to stutter, become erratic.

“Mmm… or I could just have your arms bound, sit you on my desk, and have your wrap your thighs around my neck as I lick right,” his right hand stopped its beat for a moment before he slid his thumb over the frenulum, “here until you're incapable of intelligent speech,” he added with a rough voice.

Navlaan gasped shrilly, though it barely vibrated against the gag. Eyebrows quirked upwards and eyes flung open, gluing themselves to Straid's as the walls around the human's member rhythmically tightened. The gasp turned into a cry as the Fenito ejaculated all over the front of his robe, coating it in thin ropes of pearly, sticky fluid. The last of it dribbled down and coated the fingers of his human lover.

Much like he predicted, moments later and the sorcerer from Olaphis groaned richly and simply, “Navlaan.” He came inside the Fenito mage, riding out his orgasm until it stopped.

Once it stopped, he took a moment to catch his breath before slowly and carefully his softening prick out. Silently, he cursed himself for not having the forethought to have a damp rag around to clean up. Sticking his flaccid cock back into his pants, Straid reached over and began to untie the Fenito's legs and arms.

After untying the last knot and placing the two lengths of rope back into the bottom drawer of his desk, the human sorcerer instructed softly, “Lift your head so I can take that thing out of your mouth.” Navlaan quickly complied, letting his legs hang over the edge of the desk limply.

Unbuckling the implement, Straid helped the Fenito onto his feet, taking his hand and steadying him when he landed on the relatively cool floor. Leading him over to the chair, he retrieved Navlaan's hood and slipped it over his head.

“Forgive me for leaving you like this,” Straid sighed, now incredibly aware of how hot he felt, “But I'm going to fetch you some water and a damp rag. Please, sit.” He gave his lover a kiss on the nose.

Quietly, the necromancer picked up his trousers and small clothes and sat down in the chair, clothes in his lap. As soon as he did that, Straid wandered off, not before finding a clean rag and a spotless ceramic mug before ducking out of the room.

Navlaan picked up his feet and curled up into a slightly awkward ball on the chair. His Vessel, currently locked away in their body, kept him company.

But Straid soon returned with a filled cup and a damp rag. Setting the cup on the desk, he reached down to delicately clean off the Fenito's genitals. The chaos sorcery trembled slightly, but endured it.

Like he finally snapped out of a trance, he stated exasperatedly, if a bit weakly, as he looked down at his torso, “ _ Straid _ . You- you let it get  _ all _ over my robes, Straid. All. Over.”

Grinning warmly at Navlaan, he leaned over and began to spot clean the sullied clothing. Straid found it difficult to not laugh at his fussiness.

“Oh, be quiet, you. I'm trying to remedy that.”

The Fenito waited until the human finished to reach over and drink some of the fresh water. He slipped on his small clothes, but did not bother to pull on his pants; he'd retrieve something more suitable to wear to bed as soon as he felt like getting up.

Petting Navlaan's covered head, Straid asked with a kind tone in his worn, almost creaky, voice, “Are you feeling alright, my dear? Anything sore or raw?”

“Other than my mouth tasting of rubber, I feel fine, although I suppose I could use some help getting out of the top half of this robe...” the necromancer replied drolly, peering up at the human and flashing him a wry smile.

Without a word, the human offered the Fenito his hand in order to facilitate him standing up. Straid helped him stand up again, then began to work at at buckles on the front of Navlaan's robe. He took off the robe, folding it up and flopping it down on the chair with the discarded trousers. The necromancer began to unbuckle Straids robe, needing no instruction to do so.

Both of them changed into simple but comfortable pants to wear to bed, after setting their clothing into a woven basket to be washed later. The two sorcerers laid down to bed together in the larger of the two beds; the other was a spare, at this point, since all  _ three _ of them were comfortable sleeping in the same bed together. They ended up under the covers.

Navlaan curled up against Straid, laying his head up against the human's chest. “Wash in the morning?” he asked in a tired voice, more than slightly aware that both of them smelled of sweat and musk. Wrapping an arm around the Fenito, the human replied in an almost chuckle, “Of course.”

A few moments passed.

“Straid?”

Exhaling, the man from Olaphis responded, “Hmm, what?”

The chaos sorcerer squirmed a little before answering.

“I,” he cleared his throat and spoke scarcely above a whisper, “I love you.”

Slipping fingers into the robe and gently scratching the Fenito's scalp, the human replied, “Love you too, Navlaan.”

They slipped into a sound slumber together slotted up against one another.


End file.
